Hippy Pothead and the Philosipher got stoned
by CreativeSprite
Summary: A Harry Potter Parady. It's weird and kinda dumb but I'll let you be the judge.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time in a far away realm untouched by time or sanity, there was a castle known as "the crystal palace." It lay in the middle of an ice field and was home to the author. The writer was not fond of reality, but it was the only place to get a good meal. She was bent over a machine.

"Pass the wench." She asked. One of her henchmen penguins obeyed and the miniature woman squeaked and tried to run away but got stuck when the toolbox lid closed down on her. Yes, you heard right, wench as in a woman no one likes as opposed to the tool used to tighten bolts. She seized the tiny woman by the ankles, she whacked her on the table to stop her from squirming and she became stunned in a position so her arms were held out and curved so she looked like a wrench, then the writer used the unfortunate woman as a working tool. When she was done she dropped her back into the box.

"Stu driver." The penguin passed a tiny man, a wack on the table and he was stunned so his arms here twisted together and held over his head. The writer then used him as a screwdriver. She dropped him in the box and he tried to escape but he was so dizzy all he could do was hold onto the wall of the box and hope that he didn't throw up.

"Hammer." The penguin passed another victim, this time it was a hunchback old women. The writer banged her on the machine and it started.

"It's alive! Hahahahah!" She laughed and spun around, still holding the "hammer". The old woman decided she didn't like this treatment and bit the writer making her drop her. The old woman swore in Russian and scuttled out of the room and down the hall.

The penguin closed the toolbox and picked it up, throwing the people inside backwards with tiny screams.

"What happened?' The butler penguin asked in a British accent. The head penguin had a clipboard and a lisp, but he was on holiday so instead the writer was working with the butler penguin, who was second in command next to the penguin with the lisp.

"The censor machine broke." The writer replied. "It blew up my computer and I've just fixed it. Have you tested the cross-dimensional transport yet?"

The penguin looked behind him where he saw three penguins crowded around what looked like a small railway track that ran for a few metres before pointing up at the ceiling. It was really occurring in the next room, but as the walls were made of crystal he could see everything that was going on. One penguin held a clipboard, another held a remote and the third was sitting in the rocket that was on the tracks. The penguin in the rocket put on a helmet and gave a thumbs up to the other two penguins. The penguin with the remote pushed the button. The rocket zoomed down the track and went up through the ceiling. The penguin with the clipboard shook his head and wrote something down.

"Um, it needs a few adjustments." The penguin turned back to the writer.

"I see. I'll do some writing in the time being." She turned to her computer and turned it on.

"Oh, and I need you to do the disclaimer, just look into the webcam."

The penguin waddled in place to look directly into the camera.

"JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. The Crystal Palace isn't real, it's a place that exists within the writer's imagination where she goes when she's writing, and we're warning you now, it might get a bit rude so if you offend easily I suggest you turn back now. It contains drugs, swearing and maybe sexual references. This story is not to be taken seriously, we are aware that it is not particularly well written. It is just a bit of silliness. We are very sorry if anyone gets offended."

The writer nodded and turned to the blank document and started typing.

Hippy Pothead and the Philosopher got stoned

Chapter 1: WTF?

It was midnight at pirouette drive. Not a sole was awake, if they had they might have seen the cat sitting on the brick wall, thought that was nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the man who fell from the sky and landed in the middle of the street. He had long silver hair with tiny round sunglasses and he was wearing baggy jeans, sneakers, a brightly coloured tie-dyed T-shirt and a cap worn backwards. He pulled out a baseball bat and proceeded to smash out all the street lights with glee.

"Hehehehehehehehehe!"

The cat on the brick wall rolled her eyes and mewed in protest.

The old man looked at the cat.

"Hey Professor M, what's up!" He screamed. The cat jumped off the wall and turned into a stiff looking woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore square glasses.

"Keep your voice down Agnes, do you _want_ to be seen?" She asked. "Besides, it's Professor Madonna to you."

"Oh don't be such a square, you're so stiff it's like your brain is full of Viagra. _Have_ you taken Viagra?"

"No I haven't." The woman replied stiffly.

"Well have you got some? I could really use it, Madam Pompous said she liked my earmuffs, I think she was coming onto me."

The woman sighed with exasperation.

"Have you called me here for a reason? Because if you're just going to talk about Viagra, I'm going. I've got better things to do."

The old man lit up a joint and continued talking.

"Calm down stiff bitch, it's about the dark lord."

"So the rumours are true?" She asked concerned. "The good and the bad?"

"Yeah, it's true. The Pottheads were killed but unfortunately the house blew up. A pity really, they had nice curtains."

"And you see it as a good thing?" It seemed the weed was finally taking effect.

"They _were_ the biggest drug smugglers in the country." He reminded her.

"They were still nice people. What about the boy?" She asked.

"Haggar's bringing him." He told her.

"Are you sure it's wise to trust him with something as important as this? If he hasn't eaten his already he'll accidentally sit on him."

"I would trust Haggar with my weed." Agnes replied seriously. A that moment a tricycle fell from the sky and landed in front of them. The large man sitting on it climbed off.

"Hello Professors."

"Hagger, where is the child?" Professor Madonna asked tensely.

"The child?" He asked thickly. "What child?"

"The potthead child!" She hissed.

"Oh him, I think I might've eaten him." Madonna gave Agnes a look that said "I told you so" before turning on the giant man.

"What do you mean you ate him?" She would have screamed but she remembered the muddles.

"I was only joking." He revealed the child hidden in a large pocket of his coat. He did an enormous fart and the baby fell unconscious. He took the baby out of his pocket and handed him to Agnes.

"I'm afraid I might have sat on him at some point. Oh look he's sleeping, isn't he sweet?" Haggar looked at the "sleeping" baby and Madonna decided not to yell at him and instead turned on Agnes.

"Do you think it's safe to leave him with these people? I've watched them all day, when they ate, when slept, when they were on the can, they're the worst sort of muddles imaginable, their son was kicking his mother down the street demanding alcohol. They're…"

"The only family he has left." Agnes interrupted.

"He'll be famous, any wizard family would be honoured to take him in."

"He's better off growing up away from all of that until he is ready to take it." He said wisely, and she had to admit he was right. A child growing up with that sort of fame would have an ego the size of the titanic, but still, as she watched Agnes stuff the baby through the mail slot on the door, she hoped he wouldn't be too emotionally scared the next time they met.


	2. Three chapters in one special!

The vanishing glass, the letters from no one and the keeper of the keys

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dudleys found their nephew stuffed through the mail slot in the door but Pirouette Drive hadn't really changed. On the mantle piece there were once pictures of what liked like a giant pimple wearing different coloured g-strings but over the years they were replaced with pictures of exploding pigs.

"Wake up!" The woman picked up a broom and used the handle to poke the trapdoor in the ceiling.

"Yeah wake up Potthead, we're going to the zoo!" The giant pimple threatened Hippy with a hand grenade.

"Please don't threaten your cousin with the hand grenade, you'll ruin the paint." Mrs Dudley begged her son. She was a thin bony woman with a face like a horse, literally. Many scientists and doctors had failed to explain why. The trap door opened and Hippy Potthead fell from the ceiling and landed on the floor, breaking his nose. Hippy was a miserable boy, the only thing he liked about his appearance was a scar on his head shaped like a koala smoking a joint.

"Try not to bleed on the floor, it'll stain the carpet." Mrs Dudley told him before going into the kitchen. The giant pimple kicked Hippy before following his mother.

The giant pimple was really Hippy's cousin Dudley. Yes, the boy was called Dudley Dudley, a cruel thing to do to a child but even worse was walking around with a name like "Hippy Potthead". Dudley was very fat with squinty little eyes that he couldn't see out of most of the time because his forehead was so fat it flopped down and obscured most of his vision.

"Breakfast boy! And don't let anything burn!" Mr Dudley yelled from behind his newspaper. Hippy thought that his was unfair considering all he had to do was open a packet of chocolate biskets. Mr Dudley was head of a company that made explosives. Dudley walked into the wall and Mrs Dudley guided him towards his pile of presents.

"How many are there?" Dudley demanded.

"A hundred and thirty six, I counted them myself." Mr Dudley assured his son.

"But last year I had three hundred and seventy two!" The fat boy yelled.

"But that was because last year a plane full off toys crashed into the house." Mrs Dudley reminded her son.

"But I still want more presents!' The spoiled brat demanded.

"Tough titties." Mr Dudley took a drink out of his coffee and spat it out.

"What is this boy? Mud?" He demanded that Hippy explain.

"It should be, it was only ground this morning."

The phone rang and Mrs Dudley answered it.

"Oh, right. Bad news dear, Mrs Jigg can't take _him."_ She gestured towards Hippy. Mrs Jigg was an elderly Scottish woman who they paid to baby sit Hippy. When ever she did she gave him horrible food and showed his pictures of all her pet slugs.

Hippy cheered up but Dudley started to cry.

"I don't want him to come, he'll just ruin everything." Everyone remembered Dudley's birthday last year. After the plane crashed into their house they all went for a walk in the park where Hippy set fire to several people. Just when they fixed the house, the three Dudleys went shopping only to find the house in ruins on their return, so as you can see there was some cause for concern. Dudley stopped crying when his friend Pineapple arrived. It wasn't just a nickname, Pineapple was Dudley's sock puppet. He seemed to think it was alive and he carried it everywhere.

As soon as they arrived at the zoo Dudley insisted on going to the reptile house.

"Make it move!" Dudley demanded banging his sock puppet on the glass. Mr Dudley tried but nothing exciting happened so they went to get something to eat, though later the snake swallowed one of the keepers and escaped hissing "Brazil here I come."

They went to get ice creams. The Dudleys got chocolate ice creams and before they could kick Hippy out of sight the ice-cream man asked him what he wanted so they got him a bowl of mud, probably in revenge for what he did to his uncle's "coffee." What Hippy didn't have the heart to tell him, was that it was mud mixed with worm guts and some dried dog poo he found on the street and kept in his underpants for six months. Yes, the pair he was wearing.

Hippy decided that the liquefied dirt didn't taste too bad and was about to ask for more when a voice said

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Who said that?" He asked looking around.

"Over here." It was Dudley's sock puppet.

"What's not such a good idea?" He asked.

"Eating more mud, I think there's a fly in it."

"Thanks. Do you talk to people often?"

"No not really." The sock replied.

"That's weird, I've never spoken to a sock before."

"Did you ever try?"

"No."

"Then that would explain why. Heh, that rhymes. Hey, do you want to see me dance?"

"Sure."

The sock suddenly put on an Elvis wig and sparkly jumpsuit and started dancing around while singing "Jail house Rock." It was then that the wind blew Dudley's enormous forehead out of his eyes and he finally noticed what was happening to his beloved Pineapple.

"Mum, dad, come and look what Pineapple's doing! I _knew_ he was alive!" He screamed, tackling Hippy and knocking him over backwards.

The sock became angry and wrapped himself around Dudley's throat, trying to strangle him. Dudley screamed and started to turn grey, then white, then red, then finally flashed red and blue like a police siren while his parents desperately tried in vain to wrestle the sock from their son's throat when suddenly Tarzan swung in on a vine, grabbing the sock as he flew. Unfortunately he took Dudley with him who crashed somewhere off screen and waddled back on clutching his head.

Ignoring the appearance of the random celebrity they all looked at Hippy and he knew he was in big trouble.

He was unable to explain why the sock puppet was dancing (and more importantly, why it tried to strangle Dudley) so he was locked in his attic.

The next morning at breakfast they heard the sound of the letters going through the mail slot.

"Make Hippy get it." Dudley ordered.

"Make Dudley get it." Hippy said. Dudley threatened him with the rifle he received as part of his school uniform so he decided not to argue. He got the mail and took it to his uncle.

"Bill, bill, eviction notice, death threat, bill, bill…" While Mr Dudley announced the mail with a monotone voice Hippy had swiped a latter with his name on it.

"Dad, look what Hippy's got!" Dudley screamed.

Angry at the thought that Hippy had friends, Mr Dudley snatched the letter.

He looked at the back of the envelope and screamed.

"Parsley, look!" The readers found out Mrs Dudley's name for the first time.

She looked at the envelope and screamed.

"Oh Volvo, what on earth are we going to do?" Parsley asked her husband more dramatic than an actress in a really bad soap opera.

Before he had time to ask why on earth his uncle was named after a kind of car, his aunt and uncle moved him into Dudley's second bedroom that he used to keep his collection of exotic cockroaches. He would have like it if they had gotten rid of the cockroaches before he moved in, but decided not to press his luck.

Over the following days, the mysterious letters kept coming. They found them in the eggs, in the pot plants, in their food and Hippy had even used some of them as toilet paper. Whenever a letter was discovered, Uncle Volvo ate it.

"Fine day, Sunday. And do you know why?" Their uncle asked.

"Football?" Hippy suggested.

"Yes, but that's not the point. There's also no post on Sunday." He found himself eating his words when a letter shot out of the fireplace and into his mouth. Then like the scene from "the birds" the letters flew out of the chimney and instead of picking one off the ground like a normal person, Hippy decided to try and catch one and didn't do a very good job of it, how on Earth he ended up as Gryffindor seeker with that kind of hand eye coordination is a mystery. His lack of skill in this fan fiction however, might have been because he was trying to catch the letters in his mouth. He caught one and Uncle Volvo tried to take it from him with no success. He pulled on the letter but Hippy refused to let go, even when he was lifted off the ground with his teeth still attached to the letter like a small dog with a tennis ball.

"That's it!" Volvo let go of the letter dropping his nephew to the ground. "We're leaving! Pack your bags!"

The shack on the rocks was cold and uncomfortable and Volvo was starting to wish he hadn't eaten all the letters. They were all voting to set the couch on fire when they all heard a strange ticking sound.

"What's that?" Dudley asked.

"It sounds like ticking." Hippy remarked. The ticking got faster and faster until the door blew up and they all screamed. A giant man entered but didn't bother doing anything about the door.

"Sorry about that. Got any tea?" He moved over towards the couch and sat down.

"Good to see you Hippy, last time I saw you, you were only a baby."

The Dudleys were all quivering with fright, but Volvo was brave enough to step forward with his son's rifle.

"I-I-I-I'm warning you, you are breaking and entering!"

"Dry up Dudley you great prune." The man took a deep breathe that sounded like an enormous hair dryer and sucked the gun into his mouth and swallowed it.

He handed Hippy a box. "I might have sat on it at some point, but I'm sure it will taste the same."

He opened the box and inside was a cake shaped like a joint with "Happy Birthday Hipppy" written on it.

"Why is Hippy spelled with three P's?" He asked.

"I think I might have been drunk at the time."

Well this seemed to explain a lot. Afraid the cake might have drugs in it he put it down and sat on the couch.

"Um, who are you?" He asked.

"Rubbery Haggar, groundskeeper at Pigpimple. Of course you know all about Pigpimple."

"Actually I don't." He replied.

"Did you ever wonder where your parents learned it all from?"

"Learned what?"

"You're a Pothead, Hippy." He said dramatically.

"I'm a what? But I'm too young to be a drug addict!"

"You're also a wizard, which is really useful for picking up chicks and you can sneak into pubs and get drunk." The giant man ignored the fact the kid was only eleven.

To Hippy the wizard part seemed more relevant, it also explained all the weird stuff he'd done but yet again so did the drugs. Haggar handed him a letter and he read it.

"He won't be going!" Volvo became a bit braver. "When we brought him in we decided to put a stop to all this rubbish."

"You knew, and you didn't tell me?" Hippy accused.

"Of course we knew." Parsley spat. "My sister being what she was, how couldn't you be? My parents were so proud the day she got her letter, we have a drug addict in the family! Every holiday she'd come home turning socks into condoms, she was a freak. She got married and then she was blown up and we got stuck with you!"

"You told me my parents were eaten by the cookie monster!" Hippy screamed like a little girl and began to cry.

"Pilly and Jim Pothead eaten by the cookie monster? It's an outrage you liars!" Haggar yelled.

"He's not going!" Volvo insisted and the scene was getting dangerously close to the Jerry Springer Show.

"And I suppose a great Muddle like yourself is going to stop him?" Haggar demanded.

"Muddle?" Hippy asked.

"Non magic person." Haggar explained before screaming again. "His name has been down since he was born. He's going to the best school in the world and he'll be under the best headmaster the school has ever had, Agnes Doodledorf!" He pronounced the name dramatically as if he were pronouncing the name of a god.

"I'm not going to pay to have a pot headed senile old man teach him magic tricks!"

"Don't insult Agnes Doodledorf in front of me!" Haggar pointed his vacuum cleaner at Dudley and a small dog climbed out of his bum and ran around the room yelping before jumping out the window. All his parents could do was stand shocked until they regained their senses and the three of them ran into the next room.

"I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone about that, I was expelled in my third year and I'm not supposed to use magic."

"Ok." They both fell asleep and Haggar threw his coat on the boy.

"Be careful I might have some dynamite in one of the pockets."


	3. Diagon ally

To my reviewers:

Me: It's edited, check it. Chill.

T.E.N: Soccar

Alteng: Hippy was eating real mud and the dancing bananna is not related to the dancing frog

Chirikofan: Thanks!

Warning: This chapter contains sexual references

Diagon Ally

"Where are we going?" Hippy asked Haggar.

"To Diagon Ally." He pointed out a pub called "the shady pub."

"Are you sure you want to get drunk this early? It's not even ten yet." The small boy asked.

Haggar ignored him as they entered. True to its name the pub didn't seem like a big place, it wasn't even clean and he was sure he saw a drug deal going on in the corner.

"The usual?" The barman asked.

"Can't, I'm on official business." He said proudly. Clearly Haggar was one of those people who believed he was more important than he really was. "I'm helping Hippy Pothead to get his school supplies!" He said loudly in that "I-pretending-to-have-a-normal-conversation-but-I-really-want-your-attention" tone

The pub went quiet and the barman dropped a mug.

"Holy Hell, you mean this is Hippy Pothead?"

Suddenly he found himself shaking hands with everyone in the pub.

"Hi, I'm Dedalus Diggle." A man introduced himself.

"I remember you, you stole my Uncle's car two years ago."

"He remembers me! He remembers me!" He had a heart attack and started flopping around on the ground but no one noticed.

"Oh look there's Professor Quilt, he's going to be teaching you defence against the dark arts." Haggar pointed out a small pale man wearing a large medieval battle helmet.

"Hh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-e-l-l-l-l-l-o-o-o." Hippy found his stuttering very annoying.

"Well we have to go now!" Haggar said very loudly. He steered Harry into a courtyard.

"Who were all those people?" Hippy asked.

"You're famous."

"But why?"

Haggar ignored him as he started tapping bricks with his vacuum cleaner and the wall exploded.

"Welcome to Diagon Ally."

"Haggar, is the wall suppose to do that?" Did everything in the magic world explode or was it just everything Haggar touched? His question was answered when the people in the street started to complain and they were pelted witht he dust and rublle that used to be the wall.

"Hey, watch it!"

"Damn this was new suit."

Again Haggar ignored him.

"We'll go to the bank first."

"But I haven't got any money." Hippy reminded him.

"Did you honestly think that your parents would leave you with nothing? They were the top drug dealers in the country, they had plenty of money."

"Oh." He didn't know how to take the lasts news about his parents but "whatever" was fast becoming his motto.

Haggar pointed to a hole in the road.

"We're going into the sewers?" Hippy asked and Haggar laughed.

"Where else would you put an underground bank?"

"It's just the sewer isn't a very safe place."

"Nonsense, there's no place safer, except perhaps Pigpimple."

They climbed into the sewers and Hippy jumped when he saw a green slimy thing crawl out of the water.

"What was that?" He asked.

"That's a goblin." He replied.

"Somehow I expected goblins to look a bit different." The green slimy thing looked like a giant sloth.

"Can I help you?" The goblin asked.

"We need to get some money from Mr Potthead's vault." Haggar replied. "And there's a letter from Doodledorf here about the you-know-what."

"Alright." The sloth turned around and bellowed "Smelly Feet!"

Smelly Feet the goblin plopped out of the water.

"Yes?"  
"I need you to take these people to Mr Potthead's vault. After that they need to get the you-know-what in vault you-know which."

"You mean the Philosopher's Stone in vault one hundred and sixteen?"

"No, the _other_ top secret vault." He hissed.

"Oh, ok." Smelly Feet jumped back into the water and resurfaced with a floating bathtub.

"Jump in."

Haggar and Hippy sat in the bathtub as it was pulled through the sewers by Smelly Feet like a speed boat. Haggar looked like he was going to be sick but Hippy was immune to the stink, eleven years of living withhis couisinmeant that he was immune to bad smells.

"Here we are." Smelly Feet announced as the bathtub floated near the wall. Haggar pulled one of the bricks off the wall and opened it like a shoebox.

He reached in and pulled out several gold coins which he handed to Hippy.

The bathtub sped off again. After five minutes it stopped at a dead end. Smelly Feet surfaced and picked out a brick.

"If anyone but a goblin tried this, they'd burst into flames." He explained. He pulled out a small box and handed it to Haggar.

"What is that?" Hippy's curiosity got the better of him.

"It's top secret business." Haggar explained and the bathtub sped off again.

Shopping wasn't as exciting as he thought it would be. He found some cool stuff like a book on nasty hexes and a cauldron that ate people but he soon discovered that he wasn't allowed to touch any of it.

"Now for your wand." Haggar led him to a shop with a sign that said "Ollivanders, maker of shoddy wands since last week."

"You go in by yourself, I need a drink." Haggar sped off in the direction of the pub before hippy could open his mouth.

The wand shop had a strange feeling about it, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. It might have had something to do with thegay pornand the human body parts lying around the place, but he wasn't sure. At the front desk was a short little man reading a dodgy porn magazine.

Hippy cleared his throat. The man ignored him.

"Hello?" He asked. Still nothing.

He yelled and screamed some more and eventually ran up and kicked him.

"What?' Olivander asked rudely.

"I need a wand." Hippy told him.

"What's your name?" He turned the page.

"Hippy Potthead." He hoped to put the whole celebrity thing to good use.

"Jesus Christ!" He quickly dropped the magazine and shook his hand. Hippy didn't want to know where Olivander's hands had been so he wiped his hands on his pants. Thinking of pants he suddenly noticed that the strange man wasn't wearing any and he made a mental note to boil his hands, he really didn't want to know what he had been doing reading porn with no pants on, but his Aunt Parsley had always made it perfectly clear that these were the kind of people to be avoided.

"Um, shouldn't you put some pants on?" He suggested.

"Oh yes." Olivander gave an embarrassed laugh as he disappeared behind the desk. "I suppose I should."

He reappeared wearing a dress and Hippy decided not to comment.

"It seems like only yesterday that your parents were in here buying their first wands. Your mother's was made from cardboard and unicorn semen, your father on the other hand had a wand made from condoms and dragon poo." Mr Olivander kept talking as he explored the shelves that held little boxes.

Not wanting to think about his father doing magic with a condom stuffed with dragon dung, he tried to change the subject..

"But your sign says you've only been making wands since last week."

Olivander ignored him

"Ah, here we are."He found a box and handed Hippy a pen.

"Pen and cat piss, give it a wave." He waved it and rabbit suddenly climbed out of Olivander's hair.

"No, no." Olivander shook his head and picked up a different box.

"Here, toothpick and pixie guts." Hippy waved it.

**BANG. **His head exploded. For a few seconds Olivander stared at the body (which was now starting to smoke at the neck). The body fell over backwards and Olivander leaned over his desk and stared some more.

"Oh shit." All he could do was stare dumbly. Then a second Hippy walked in through the door.

"Hi, I need a wand."

"Um, of course you do." He said when he found his voice. The other Hippy looked at the body on the floor.

"Who was he?"

"Um, never mind." Olivander kicked the body out of the way. "Try this." He handed Hippy a plastic drinking straw.

"Straw and phoenix tongue." Hippy waved the wand and the words "plot device" appeared in red smoke.

"Curious." Olivander muttered. "Very curious."

"What curious?' Hippy asked.

"I remember every wand I've sold Mr Potthead, the phoenix who's tongue is in your wand only gave one other body part. The penis that lies in the brother of this wand, gave you that scar."

Hippy wasn't aware that phoenixes had penises, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

"Who owned that wand?" He asked.

"We do not speak his name." He said ominously.

"Why?" Hippy asked.

"Because it's a dick to pronounce." He told him. Hippy was about to ask him more when he heard a banging and saw Haggar standing outside with a depressed looking vulture in a cage.

"Happy birthday!"

"Are you alright Hippy? You seem very quiet." Haggar asked that night as they munched on roasted rats.

"He killed my parents didn't he?' Hippy asked. "The one who gave me this." He pointed to his scar.

"Now understand this Hippy, not all wizards are good." Haggar was rather drunk by now and his speech was slurred. "There was this one bastard who went as evil as you go."

"What's his name?" Hippy asked.

"It's hard to pronounce." Haggar told him.

"Couldn't you write it down?"

"Nah, can't spell it."

"Please try?"

"Alright, his name was Voldemontrymontramort. But we just call him Voldemort for short. He had followers, mostly dickheads with nothing better to do. He killed people and once he decided to kill someone they never survived, except for you." Haggar gave him a look that made him squirm in his chair.

"But why did he try to kill me?"

"Your parents did something to annoy him ad he decided to knock them off, he probably tried to kill you because by then he probably enjoyed killing. Some say he died, but I don't believe it. I think he's out there somewhere, too weak to continue."

"But why did he blow up when he tried to kill me?' Hippy asked confused. "What's so special about me?"

"I don't know." Haggar replied. "Nobody does, but that's why you're famous. Not only did you survive an attack form you-know-who but you also destroyed him. Now hurry up and finish your rat."

(A/N I just realised "there were more pressing issues at hand" sounded a bit dirty. I'm thinking of puting his scar on his backside instead of his forehead, what do you think?)


	4. The sorting shorts

Chapter 4

Hippy's last month with the Dudleys wasn't much fun. He stayed in his room most of the time.

He named his pet vulture Vomit because of all the semi-digested people she kept throwing up all over his Spiderman doona cover.

"Uncle Volvo!" He yelled down the stairs.

"What do you want now you little freak?" Volvo called back.

"I need a lift into London tomorrow!" He yelled.

"Fat chance, no way."

"Are you sure?"

"No chance in hell!"

"I think it would be a really good idea if you did!" He called back.

"Give me one good reason." Volvo called.

"Because if you don't, I'll show Aunt Parsley those photos I took of you."

"What photos?" Volvo asked.

"The photos I took of you wearing her clothes when she was out shopping."

There were a few seconds of silence.

"Fine! Just don't tell your Aunt."

Hippy stared at the brick wall and checked his ticket again.

"Platform nine and six eighths, where the hell am I supposed to find that?"

Then he heard a rather loud voice screaming.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE NAME OF THE PLATFORM AGAIN?" He looked

around and saw a large woman with five children. A little girl, a rather tall boy his own age, twins and a rather pompous looking git with one of those stupid "sensible" hair cuts that scream "I'm a good boy, I let my mummy cut my hair for me."

"Nine and six eighths mum, keep your voice down!" The little girl said sounding rather embarrassed.

'WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"I SAID KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!"

"Jesus Christ mum, your children have been going to this school for at least ten years and you still can't remember the number of the platform?" One of the twins asked.

"WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Never mind."

"WHAT'S THE NUMBER AGAIN?"

"NINE AND SIX EIGHTHS!" Her children yelled in unison.

"OK! HURRY UP! PLATFORM NINE AND SIX EIGHTS THIS WAY! THIS WAY TO THE SECRET PLATFORM SO YOU DON'T MISS THE TRAIN THAT TAKES YOU TO THE TOP SECRET MAGIC WIZARD SCHOOL!"

He didn't want to sound too optimistic, but he guessed that he had just found the right people to ask.

"GO ON, YOU FIRST BREAD!"

"He's not Bread, I am, honestly, you call yourself our mother?"

"WHAT AM I A TELEPHONE BOOK? JUST RUN THROUGH THE WALL!"

"Only joking, I am Bread!" One of the twins disappeared as he ran into the wall that separated platform nine and ten, his clone followed.

"Um, excuse me?" He asked the woman.

"You'll have to speak up, she's a bit deaf." The pompous git told him.

Well that explained a lot.

"HOW-DO-I-GET-ONTO-THE-PLATFORM?" He yelled, feeling a bit self conscious. The muddles were starting to stare.

"Right through the barrier." The tall boy told him before his mum could start yelling again. "You can go before me."

"Thanks."

He started running and he crashed into the barrier.

"Whoops, sorry. You have to run a little bit to your right. That bit of wall would lead to platform nine and three quarters."

"So why didn't I end up there?"

"It's closed."

"Oh. Ok." Hippy felt the wall for a bit until his arm went through.

"Hey, cool that wall's eating my arm!" He waved his arm inside the wall for a bit and started giggling.

"Just go through." The pompous git started to sound a bit annoyed. Hippy continued giggling.

"Oh for god's sake." Mr Pompous walked up and kicked him through the barrier.

Hippy flew through the air, his trunk had conveniently rolled safely through.

_This is fun, I should do it more often._ He thought before getting stuck in the train's chimney head first.

The people on the platform looked out to see a pair of legs kicking and waving around while muffled screaming came out.

Just when Hippy felt like he was going to pass out, he heard a pop sound like a cork being released from a bottle and he smelt the sweet fresh air and he realised that the loud woman had pulled him out.

"Thanks."

"NO NEED TO THANK ME, BINNY POINTED YOU OUT!" She screamed and gestured towards the small girl. Privately he thought that Binny was an appropriate name as the small child smelled rather badly. He quickly hurried onto the train.

"Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full." The tall boy asked. He looked a little bit nervous about sitting next to a child which seemed more than a bit mentally disturbed.

"Not at all." Hippy was happy that someone wanted to sit next to him for a change as opposed to all the normal people who always looked at him funny and started edging away.

"I'm Run, by the way."

"Run? Is that short for something?"

"It's short for Running Weasel."

"Why did your mother call you Running Weasel?"

"She liked the idea of the Native Americans naming their child after the first thing they see after the child is born. But instead of ending up with a really cool name like angry wolf or growling bear, I ended up with Running Weasel. Weasel is also our last name so she thought it was appropriate."

"So your name is Running Weasel Weasel."

"No, just Running Weasel. Most Native American names sound really cool but mine's just embarrassing, people refuse to believe it's my real name. I'm sure in the Native American community it would be a nice name but try explaining that to people here."

"It could be worse, try walking around with a name like Hippy Potthead."

"You're Hippy Potthead?" Run sounded impressed. "Is it true you have a scar?"

Hippy lifted his hair.

"Cool. What's it supposed to be?"

"I think it's supposed to be a Koala smoking a joint."

"Oh, ok. Can you remember much?"

"Not much. I remember disco lighting and a really funny smell, though that might have been from a really weird drug trip I once had."

"I hear you went to live with Muddles, what are they like? My dad's nuts about them."

"They're horrible. Well, not all of them, just the ones I got stuck with. I wish I had three brothers."

"Five actually." Run correct him. "There's Me, Bread, Number four child, Smarmy and two Bills."

"Why are two of them named Bill?"

"Because not only is mum deaf, she also has a memory problem, she forgot that she already used the name of her first child. Bad memory is also the reason she always forgets that I'm lactose intolerant." He held up some miserable looking cheese sandwiches.

Conveniently the trolley lady came by.

"Anything off the trolley dears?"

A few minutes later, the boys were found in a nest of chocolate emos, every flavour eyeballs, prune pastries and liquorice dicks.

"Every flavour eyeballs?" He looked at the little box.

"You get normal flavours like chocolate and peppermint, but there's also spinach, vomit and tripe. Smarmy says he got a sperm flavoured one once."

Hippy decided not to comment and inspected a chocolate emo.

"What are these?"

"It's just a spell. See what card you've got, I've got about five hundred."

Hippy opened the box and a small chocolate person jumped out and started climbing the window.

"Why do I bother, what's the point in living?" The emo then jumped out of the train.

Hippy looked at his card and saw an old man mooning him.

"What's he doing?"

Run looked over.

"Oh that's Doodledorf, he's the headmaster of Pigpimple I've got six of him."

There was a sudden sneeze from the small rat that had become stuck inside one of the eyeball packets.

"That's Pimple. He's pathetic. I wanted a vulture but my mum said they carry rabies. Number four child gave me a spell for turning him yellow, want to see?"

"Alright."

Run cleared his throat and suddenly the door burst open. They had been discovered by a girl with very bushy hair. And by bushy I mean really bushy, bushy as in so bushy innocent bystanders often got tangled in it. She also had very yellow crooked teeth and bad breathe.

"Have you seen a slug? Neville's lost his." Then she saw Run. "Oh so you're going to do magic then? Let's see it."

Run then started to wack the rat rather violently with his wand while screaming

"YELLOW, YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW!" Pimple then sprang up and started doing a rather complicated ballet dance, it was quite an accomplishment but as this was not the result Run had been looking for he considered this a failure.

"Well that's odd. I've tried spells myself and all mine have worked. Example."

She sat across from Hippy.

"Kilermonoshavicampishtamilekalamariosisiotus." Hippy's hair suddenly looked like one of those fluffy rainbow clown wigs you get at carnivals. Then she saw his scar.

"Holly Mars bars! You're Hippy Potthead!"

"Not a name I'm proud of." He replied.

"I'm Hormonal Gangrene." Then she looked at Run. "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm Running Weasel."

"Charming. You'd better change into your robes, we'll be arriving soon."

A few hours later the train pulled up at the station.

"FIRST YEARS THIS WAY!" Haggar yelled in the wrong direction.

"Hagger, we're down here!" Hippy cupped his hands around his mouth and called.

"Oh, there you are." Haggar turned around. 'Follow me."

He led them to the edge of a lake.

"Right, who wants to strip down to their skivvies, cover themselves in gravy and swim across this shark infested lake?" He asked everyone cheered except for Hormonal who was starting to entertain the possibility that these people were a bit mental.

"Or we could just take the boats." Hormonal suggested as a sinister looking fin rose out of the water.

"Fine then party pooper. The only problem is, the boats are missing."

"So what are we using?" Hippy asked.

"Logs." Haggar told him. "Four of you hop on and start paddling."

"But there aren't any paddles."

"Then use your hands."

By the time they got to the castle, Hippy's hands were covered in slime and what suspiciously looked like blood. It seemed that Haggar wasn't joking about the sharks.

They were greeted by a stiff looking woman with square glasses and hair that was pulled back so tight that her face was pulled into an expression of permanent surprise.

"Welcome to Pigpimple. In a moment you will pass through these doors behind me and into the great hall where you will be sorted into your houses which are called Raven dung, Wheeze 'n' sneeze, Gluck cluck and Witchy poo."

Had the house founders put any effort into naming the houses? Apparently not. He also suspected they had been smoking something.

"While you are here your house will be like your family. Good behaviour will be rewarded with points, bad behaviour will be punished by lose of points and sometimes limbs depending on your crime. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup." The woman then left dramatically through the doors.

"So it's true then." A nasally voice whined. "Hippy Potthead has come to Pigpimple."

He turned around to face a blond boy with a pointy face. "This is Crap and Boyle." He gestured towards his friends who smelled like week old socks soaked in a disgusting cocktail of algae and snot and they were just as attractive.

"And I'm Malfunction." He said dramatically. "Drongo Malfunction."

Run giggled.

"Think my name's funny do you?" He challenged.

"Yes!" Run spurted between giggles. "It's hilarious."

"You're name's not much better Running Weasel."

That shut him up.

"Some wizard families are better than others." He whined. "You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out a hand that looked like he hadn't washed them in months. There was no way he was going to touch his smelly hands.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks."

Everyone started chanting "Fight! Fight ! Fight! Fight! Fight ! Fight!" The chanting got faster as they went on, Thankfully the teacher returned.

"That's enough. Time to go."

The hall was enormous. When he looked up he saw the sky.

"Wow, they've bewitched the ceiling to look like the sky."

"Actually they were too poor to afford a roof." Hormonal told him. "I read about it in "Pigpimple; it really sucks." It's a good book."

"I bet it is." Personally Hippy wasn't interested in any book that didn't have pictures.

Everything went silent and they all stared at a stool that was standing in a spot light. On the stool was a pair of brightly coloured boxer shorts that looked like they hadn't been washed in centuries.

"They don't honestly expect us to wear them do they?' Hormonal asked sounding completely grossed out by the idea.

Before anyone could answer her the rim of the shorts opened and began to sing to a completely random tune.

"You might not think I'm pretty

In fact I smell rather bad

Because I haven't been washed in a thousand years

But that's tough luck for you because you have to try me on for size

And I'll pick a house at random

You might belong in Witchie Poo which is full of trolls and evil bad guy stereo types

Or I might put you in Raven Dung where all the nerds do their homework as soon as they get it

Or I might put you in Gluck cluck where the brave at heart endanger their lives in new and exciting ways

Or if I really don't like you I'll put you in Wheeze 'n' Sneeze where they keep the social rejects who are all losers

So let's hurry this up because I'm pulling all this out of my arse as I go along and I'm starting to get hungry."

The hall echoed the polite clapping.

"So we've just got to put on the shorts?" Run asked. "I'll kill Bread for what he said about having sex with a troll."

Professor Madonna started reading out names in no particular order.

"Hormonal Gangrene!"

"Hmmm." The shorts hummed. "You're nerdy and you really should go in Raven dung but for the convenience of the plot I put you in GLUCK CLUCK."

The Gluck Cluckions cheered. Run was also put into Gluck Cluck along with Neville and several others, but as the author is extremely lazy, let's skip right to Hippy.

"Hippy Potthead."

Half of the students made noises of awe, the other half were trying not to laugh.

"Hmmm." The shorts hummed. "You're not practically bright so that rules out Raven dung."

"Hey!"

The shorts ignored him.

"You're a bit of a loser so Wheeze 'n' Sneeze is a possibility."

"Please not that."

"Ok, you're also rather ugly, so maybe I should put you in Witchy Poo."

"No that one either." He said quickly.

"Fine then, that just leaves GLUCK CLUCK!"

The students cheered and he sat down and started eating.

Try guessing who's who

Thanks to my one and only reviewer. I've really been enjoying myself so I really hope this story makes it to the end. Please review, every one counts.


	5. Classes

Chapter 5

Reviews:

Amadea: thanks, I try to make the names bizarre. The only name I didn't change Neville's name but I couldn't think of a name more embarrassing than Neville Longbottom. Except perhaps Nigel Dingleberry.

CrypticPassword: thanks

"Welcome to the Gluck Cluck common room." Percy told them. Personally Hippy thought they should fire their interior decorator. The floor was covered in hideous shaggy carpet that was an orange/brown colour, the walls were a dark yellow and the furniture was puke green and poo brown. There was a distinct smell of vomit and all the chairs had been replaced with custard filled barrels that they had to sit in, turning them upside down was against the rules.

The next morning Hippy and Run were running down the corridors more hyperactive than two year olds loaded up with caffeine and sugar. They were dressed in their matching uniforms that consisted of enormous platform shoes, blue tights with matching leotards and accessorised with a lovely velvet cape, a pimp cane and enormous sunglasses.

"Weeeeeeeeeee!" Hippy smacked into a wall because he thought it was fun.

"Won't we be late to class?" Run asked.

"Who cares?" Hippy screamed. "Let's go into this room, maybe there's some stuff we can steal."

"Okay."

They entered the room only to discover that it was the class they were supposed to be attending. Everyone was staring at them including a rather grumpy looking cat sitting on the desk.

"Oh, good thing we're not late."

"Can you imagine Madonna's face if we were late."

"Ug bad mental picture, that woman's ugly enough already."

"I heard that." The cat glared.

"Trippy the cat's talking! This shit must be more powerful then I thought."

"I choose not to understand that." Madonna glared and she turned back into her normal self.

"Hey, where did the cat go?"

"I am the cat."

"No you're not, you're Professor Madonna."

Madonna rubbed her forehead.

"I turned into a cat! I am an animagas!"

They blinked at her.

"I don't get it."

"Just explain why you are late."

"We got lost." Run lied.  
"Wha…ow."Hippy yelped when Run trod on his foot. "Um, yes. Lost."

"Just sit down."

They spent the rest of the lesson trying to turn dog poo into door knobs.

"Defence against the dark arts next." Run said excitedly. "This should be interesting."

"Don't bet on it." Hippy replied. "I've met the teacher."

True to his word the class was about as interesting as trying to breed dust bunnies for a living. Professor Quilt just spent the whole class on paranoid ramblings and how his battle helmet stopped aliens from reading his mind. It would have been funny in a cruel way if it hadn't taken him so long to say anything. Hormonal smacked Hippy with a book when he made fun of his stutter.

"Honestly Hippy, it's not his fault!"

"I hope Potions is better." Run grumbled.

Turns out it wasn't. Hippy thought all the teachers were a bit weird but that wasn't a great surprise considering who was running the place. The fact that the class was held in a dungeon should have been a bit of a give away that the teacher was a definite weirdo.

"There will be not foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class." The teacher burst in dramatically.

"Quite frankly I don't think any of you losers are worth teaching but my contract says I have to. I am Professor Snipe."

He seemed very depressed and from what Percy had told him he was very anti social, Hippy thought he probably needed a hug. Snipe unfolded a pre-prepared speech and began to rant, personally speaking Hippy found it just as annoying as Quilt's stutter.

"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." He squinted as he struggled to read his own handwriting.

"Bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death."

"Awwww damn it." The grim reaper got out his seat and left the room.

"I can teach you how to simmer success, infuse triumph and boil conquest."

Hippy started to draw cartoons in his book and noticed that Drongo seemed to be making eyes at the teacher. It was a bit sick considering that he was only eleven but who knows, maybe Drongo had a thing for older men.

He was right. Drongo was attracted to older men in positions of authority and had a secret fetish for bondage. It was a bit of a surprise that no one had picked up on it sooner.

Oh blah, was the teacher still talking?

"I can teach you to concoct victory!"

"Oh for god's sake, are you going to go on like this the whole lesson?" Hippy cried out in bored frustration.

Snipe's nostrils flared.

"Mr Potthead." He sneered. "Our...new…celebrity." He paused between each word as if he were trying to add a dramatic effect but all it did was make him sound mentally challenged. He heard a giggle come from Drongo's table.

"Tell me. What potion contains nettle nectar and powdered worm wood?"

"I don't know" Hormonal raised her hand.

Snipe looked rather pleased. "Where would you look if I asked you to find me a rock?"

"I don't know." Hormonal's hand shot up again.

"What is the difference between rabbits and lapins?"

"I don't know."

"Clearly fame isn't everything. Nettle Nectar and powdered worm wood combined create a laxative so powerful it is known within some circles as "the brown tidal wave." You'd know that if you actually read your books for a change, I recommend it, reading can be most helpful to your studies. You might actually learn something for a change"

"A rock is a hard object found on the ground and lapin is just another word for rabbit."

Hippy failed to see how this was relevant to the class. He could tell by Snipe's smirk that it wasn't, he was just trying to win an argument.

"What potion contains sodium chloride and sodium citrate?"

"I am the one asking the questions here…"

"They are both ingredients in a powerful anti grease cleaning chemical otherwise known as shampoo, you'd know that if you washed your hair for a change. I recommend it, washing your hair can be most helpful to your social life. You actually might get one for a change."

Everyone stared at him. Hormonal and the citizens of Witchy Poo looked horrified and most of the Gluck Cluckians looked like they were about to burst out laughing.

"How dare you mock me in my own class!" He yelled. Hippy then went down in history as the student to loose the most amount of points at once.

Hippy wasn't expecting flying lessons to be any better, considering how boring they had been so far. Contrary to popular belief, magic school was not turning out to be very exciting. Their flying teacher Madam Pooch was really just an excessively fluffy English sheep dog with a whistle.

"Stand over your vacuum cleaner and say "up"." Despite this instruction, this move would never again be used in the entire series.

"Why vacuum cleaners?" Hippy asked. "Wouldn't broomsticks be easier?"

Madam Pooch laughed. "Brooms are for pansies, here we use vacuum cleaners."

"Once you have your vacuum I want you to mount it…"

There was a perverted snigger from Hippy.

"And when I blow on my whistle I want you to hover for a moment and then come back down."

Predictably, Neville's vacuum was the first to rise. That kid was an accident waiting to happen.

"Mr Longbottom, get back down here!" Madam Pooch barked. Neville's vacuum zoomed into the sky and out of sight.

"I'd better go find him. You stay here and if I see any of you in the sky when I get back, I'll bite your ankles."

"What's this?" Drongo picked up a glass ball after Madam Pooch disappeared.

"It's Neville's. It gives you an electric shock if you've had naughty thoughts."

As they were all only eleven, none of them knew what that meant.

"I think I'll leave it in the lake."

"But won't that kill all the fish."

"Bwahahaha!" He gave a typical bad guy laugh and flew off. Then he realised he'd left his vacuum behind and went back for it.

"You heard what Madam Pooch said!" Hormonal shrieked when Hippy reached for his vacuum. "Do you want to get your ankles bitten?"

Hippy ignored her and he flew up after Drongo. This was widly accepted as a cheap trick by the author to show was a daring rebel he was.

"Catch!"

Oh come on. Don't tell me that I'm the only one who notices Draco making weird faces at Snape in the potions class scene.

Can anyone tell me what happened to a fic called "art of the silver screen"? It was about the Marauders going to see Prisoner of Azkaban at the movies.


	6. I'm a decoy!

Ch: 6

TEN: I never watched Bewitched. In Australia that show is only on cable TV, which I don't have and I wasn't aware that Samantha had a vacuum cleaner. I chose flying vacuum cleaners because broomsticks would be too normal but I needed something similar because flying bicycle wouldn't have worked and the only other options involved either farting or drugs. I know there wouldn't be any werewolves if werewolves killed all of their victims, but you'll find in a lot of typical werewolf stories the victim survives because they get rescued, escape or fight back. If all victims survived there would be more of them, and if werewolves didn't kill anyone they wouldn't be scary anymore. Instead of "Ah, I've been bitten, now I'm going to kill innocent people" it would just be like "oh I've been bitten. That was rather painful. Now I'm going to turn into a wolf at the full moon and bite other people. Maybe this isn't so bad."

I've gone back and changed a few things, mostly the Weasel kid's names and now Hippy talks to socks instead of bananas so it's best to go back and read it to avoid confusion.

Now on with the chapter

When Professor Madonna caught Hippy she dragged him around the corridors by his nose. Catching him had been no mean feat considering after the midair fight with Drongo he'd gone prancing naked through the woods giggling like a mad hyena. Catching the little bugger had involved nets, pits full of sharp stakes and most of the faculty dressed in matching camouflage uniforms.

"Can I borrow Plank?" Madonna asked Professor Quilt. Quilt's current lesson involved teaching the class how to avoid being spied on by wrapping your head in tin foil until you passed out.

"Go ahead."

Professor Madonna was passed a plank of wood which she used to hit Hippy over the head with.

"Ow!" He wined and rubbed his head.

"Oh quit whining. Hippy, this is Oliver Plank."

He looked. Nothing.

"Is Plank you're imaginary friend?"

"No dumbass, this is Oliver Plank." She waved the bit of wood at him. "This is what I'll smack you with if you pull a stupid stunt like that again."

"I think he should be made decoy." Said a tiny voice. Hippy looked around.

"Down here." On a ledge sat a tiny boy about three inches high.

"Decoy? What would you want to make him decoy for?"

"This boy managed to avoid capture by all the members of staff and completely starkers no less. You've got to admit, he's courageous."

"More like deranged."

"He's brave, fearless and not afraid of a challenge. I like it."

"Fine you can keep him, but he's your responsibility. Not mine."

"First we'd need to get him a decent vacuum."

"When I said he was your reasonability I meant it."

"Fine I'll pay for it. I think either a scum suck 300 or the dance-a-thon 2000."

"Fine, you choose."

"Hippy, practise is at 4."

"Guess what , Run I'm going to be a decoy!" Hippy squealed like a teenage girl with a crush.

"I know, Bread and Number Four Child told me. They're wankers."

"That's not very nice. I like your brothers. They're funny. Smarmy seems more like a wanker to me."

"It's a position." Number four child appeared on his left.

"It's our job to make sure the other team members don't get killed." Bread explained.

"We can't make any promises in your case of course."

"You're called the decoy for a reason."

"It was good knowing you mate."

"Don't worry I'm sure you'll be fine." Run told him when the twin walked off laughing.

"Are you kidding?' Hormonal screeched. "It's the most dangerous position in the most dangerous game in the world, of course he'd going to get killed. Hippy do you even know what a decoy does?"

"No." He admitted.

"A decoy is someone who flies around the pitch to distract the other team while our own team members score."

"Doesn't sound too bad."

"Yeah, but usually the decoy gets the shitters whacked at him. Every time the other team's wankers hit you with a shitter they get twenty points."

"Oh goody! I'm going to get the shit whacked out of me!"

"It is why they're called the shitters." Hormonal said. I think you need to think about this Hippy, you're dad lost his marbles playing this game."

"You mean he lost his brain?"

"No Hippy, his _other _marbles. _Other_ marbles." She had to repeat this a few times before he finally got it.

"Oh _those_ marbles." He finally caught on. "Ew. Then how was I conceived?"

"No idea Hippy, I didn't know him personally."

"She knows more about you than you do." Run shook him head.

"Run. Haggar's left nostril knows more about me than I do."

"Good point."

True to what tiny boy said (later on he found out his name was Short Stuff) he was made a decoy on the Gluck Cluck Bitchy team. Shortie took Hippy out to the pitch to teach him the rules of the game. The objective was to fly around wearing ridicules costumes while try to throw a funny shaped ball through a hoop. The idea was the apposing team would be laughing too hard to concentrate on their own scores.

"Each team has three Jinkies, two wankers a blocker and a decoy." Short Stuff said while he sat on Hippy's shoulder and made him carry the equipment.

"There are three kinds of balls." Hippy opened the box. "That red one is the qiddle."

He looked at the ball which actually turned out to be a decapitated head.

"Ew."

"Oh that was Bread and number four child messing around we're not sure how to turn it back."

"Oh. Okay."

"Those are the shitters."

He was relieved to see that these balls were relatively normal except they both seemed to have angry faces drawn on them.

"Bread and Number four child?"

"Yep. They hit the shitters with this." He held up a bat that looked like a giant dildo.

"The last one is the Golden Booger."

The last ball was a small booger shaped gold ball with wings like a butterfly.

"Your job is to catch it."

"But I thought I was just a decoy?"

"You are. But it's also your job to catch the Booger, if you do we get 150 points."

"Okay."

"And I am the blocker." he motioned proudly to himself.

"Oh shit."

"That's the spirit!"

Sorry it's kinda short, more next time


End file.
